September 11, 2001; Reflections from an Educator

September 11, 2001, was the deadliest terrorist attack on American soil in United States history. The attacks targeted New York City and Washington, D.C.. Using airplanes as weapons, the terrorists’ attacks caused extensive death, destruction, and trauma. All told almost 3000 people were killed on September 11th. In New York, 2,750 people were killed, 184 people at The Pentagon in Washington D.C., and 40 people in a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. One of the people killed during these awful attacks was a former student who attended the school where I was a teacher.

Many people remember exactly where they were and what they were doing when the first plane struck the World Trade Center's North Tower. I am one of those people that remember the day vividly. I was a classroom teacher in the District of Columbia Public School (DCPS) system teaching 2nd grade. My school was less than 9 miles from the Pentagon. 

While I cannot recall times, for example, I cannot tell you what happened at 10:15 am or 11:30 am, I clearly remember the day's events. School started after Labor Day in DCPS. Labor Day was September 3, 2001, so on September 11, 2001, my students had been in my class for about a week. 

The first telling event was when my new teammate, a young first-year teacher, came across the hall to tell me something was happening in New York. She thought it could be a bad situation, and she wanted to know how to evacuate her students in the event of an emergency. I told her the procedures and kept teaching.

A few minutes later, my best teacher friend came upstairs (she taught first grade and her class was on the first floor) to get her daughter and take her child to her own classroom to be with her in case the event was serious. My friend shared that a plane had hit a building in New York. She saw it on television, I think. I am sure we did not have access to real-time information on our phones or computers in our classrooms so I know she did not Google or check the internet. The only technology we had access to was two desktop computers per class that students used to work on math and reading programs accessed via floppy disks (a technology we no longer use for computer program storage). The thought of researching the unfolding events never crossed my mind. I felt the need to locate a television to watch the news, however, that could not happen because I was teaching.

Following my friend's announcement, my principal started going class to class telling teachers that a tragedy was happening and parents were starting to pick up their children. She only told me “It is bad. Stay calm. I’ll keep you updated.” Our brief conversation ended with her saying “teachers and students should remain in the classroom and await instructions.”

Announcements began to come into classrooms over the school intercom requesting individual students to be dismissed early. They were fast and furious for about 20 minutes before my principal asked teachers to have students pack up their belongings. Teachers were to bring students to the multipurpose room. Once we gathered, someone wheeled in a television cart with the VCR and put on a Disney movie for the students to watch.

By the time the movie started, American Airlines Flight 77 had struck the Pentagon. Many of our students’ parents work for the Federal Government. After the attack on the Pentagon, at 9:37 am, the government shut down. Many parents were stuck in slow-moving, heavy traffic, frantic to get to their children at schools. When they arrived at the school, many of the parents were visibly upset. In all of the confusion, the parents gave a lot of misinformation. One parent said a plane crashed into Union Station, less than 4 miles from my school. Another parent said a plane crashed into the White House, 4.6 miles from the school. Teachers had a television in a room around the corner from the multipurpose room. We were able to take turns watching the children and the news. We watched the television and cried. Then we collected ourselves and went back to watch the students so other teachers could cry and watch the news. I recall there was a lot of crying from the adults in the hallway. I don’t remember the students crying. They seemed to huddle in groups and watch the movie and the teachers. When their teacher was in the room they sat close by; huddled together.

While waiting for parents to pick up their children, my principal told the students we would be alright. She assured the students that we, the collective, did not know anyone involved. Things were going to be okay. Within a half-hour of making that statement, we found out that one of our former students, Asia Cottom, was on Flight 77, the flight that struck the Pentagon. Asia had attended my school from kindergarten - fifth grade. For the 2001- 2002 school year, she was attending middle school. Asia, two of her classmates, and 3 teachers were headed to California. The students had won a National Geographic essay contest, and their prize was a trip to study marine life. 

If the teachers were holding it together, and that is a big if, finding out that Asia was on flight 77 ended our grip. My principal felt that she betrayed the students. In her effort to calm the students and make them feel better, her statement that we did not know anyone harmed was now invalidated Asia’s former teachers were inconsolable. Between the misinformation and the devastatingly true information, it was clear that no September 11th would never be the same.

We still had students to take care of, so we cried and continued to take turns watching the students. By 12:30 pm, we had less than 30 children in the building. My principal asked if a few people would stay until all of the parents could pick up their children. After securing a few staff members to stay, most of the staff left the school. I stayed. Around 2:00 pm, all of the students had left the building, and I left the school. On an average day, my ride home took 45 minutes. On September 11, 2001, it took me less than 30 minutes to get to my home. The streets of DC were eerily quiet and completely deserted. I remember being so exhausted.

I have not taught many lessons about September 11th without weeping because of the trauma I experienced that day. I have made a conscious decision to support other teachers during instruction, but not lead the lesson. This year, 20 years after the tragic events of that day, was the first time in years I’ve watched commemorative programs. I think watching them gave me the strength to write down what I remember. 

I found writing out the events of that day helped me process my feeling. I understand how survivors of traumatic events, decades later, can recount the event so clearly. They can tell you what they saw, smelt, felt in the moment. I needed space.  It happened 20 years ago, and it took me that long to feel safe to write it all down.